Alpha's Regret After She Kneels

"You missed everything," I say quietly, my voice steadier than I feel. "You missed who I actually am."

To my surprise, he doesn't argue. He doesn't deflect or deny. Instead, he nods, a small, almost imperceptible movement that feels heavier than any words he could have spoken.

"I'm beginning to see that," he admits, his tone soft, almost gentle.noveldrama

The simple acknowledgment, this quiet confession of failure, hits me harder than I expect. It's not forgiveness—not yet-but it feels like the first step toward... something. Understanding, maybe. Closure.

But all of a sudden, an inner rage begins to rumble deep within me. The thought of all teh years I was his kicking post-his play thing. The thought of all I'd sacrifieed.

I don't know what to say. For years, I dreamed of hearing him admit he was wrong, that he failed me. But now that it's happening, it feels... bittersweet.

"We both know the Eastern Coalition could have sent anyone. Twenty-three diplomats who would have been eager for the assignment. Yet suddenly, now that Windhowl has secured the silver mining rights, now that my leadership has been formally acknowledged by the High Council, you appear on my doorstep."

He turns slowly, "Is that what you think?" he asks, his voice dangerously soft. "That I'm here because you've finally proven yourself worthy of my attention?"

The laugh that escapes me is harsh and brittle. "Worthy? That's rich, coming from you. You made it perfectly clear what you thought of my worth when you blocked every proposal I brought to the council for two years. When you convinced the Northern Packs to embargo our trading routes. When you—"

My voice catches, but I force myself to continue. "When you told my father on his deathbed that Windhowl would be better off absorbed into your territory."

Raiden's composure finally cracks, a flash of anger contorting his features.

"Your father was dying because of his own stubborn refusal to see reality! Xeno was poisoning himself and your pack with delusions of independence when you were hemorrhaging resources. I offered salvation!"

"You offered subjugation!" I step around the desk, closing the distance between us. "My father spent his life building something that belonged to us, and you couldn't stand it. You couldn't stand that I chose Windhowl over you."

His laugh is cold and mocking. "Is that the story you tell yourself? That poor Siena had to choose between her beloved pack and her mate? You never chose anything but your own ambition."

"My ambition?" I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. "I fought to keep my people alive while you used our mate bond as a political weapon!"

"And now look at you," he sneers, gesturing around my office-at the maps marked with new trading routes, the ceremonial Alpha staff

mounted on the wall, the

documentation of our recent victories. "Finally acknowledged as the proper Alpha of a third-rate pack. Congratulations. Was it worth

destroying us?"

The casual cruelty in his voice sends a wave of cold fury through me. "There was never an 'us' to destroy Raiden. You made sure of that. The

moment I showed any

er

independence, any resistance to

becoming just another acquisition in

your empire, you turned on me."

"This is exactly why it fell apart between us," he hisses, stepping closer until I can feel the heat radiating from him.

The familiar scent of him-pine and smoke and something uniquely Raiden- threatens to undermine my resolve. "You're selfish and childish, and the council were fools to see anything else. You twist everything to make yourself the victim."

"And you twist everything to

maintain control," I counter, refusing to back down. "Isn't that why you're really here? Now that Windhowl is flourishing despite your best efforts to crush us, you can't stand being on the outside. You need to find a way back in."

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes. "You think I want control of your precious pack? After all this time?"

"I think you can't stand that I succeeded without you." The words hang between us, sharp and true.

For a moment, the mask slips, and I see something raw and wounded in his expression. But it's gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

"I came here to negotiate a treaty," he says, his voice suddenly cold and professional again. "Nothing more. Whatever delusions you harbor about my motives are your own problem."

"Then negotiate with my Second," I reply, equally frigid. "I have more important matters to attend to."

Just as he reaches the doorway, he hesitates.

"For what it's worth," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I do regret my treatment of you, Siena. More than I can express. Maybe that's why I'm here." For a heartbeat, I almost believe him.